


You Smile, and it Makes Me Fly

by blarfshnorgull



Series: your smile is the greatest gift of all [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, can be read as a standalone, dadmitiri, marianne and her daughter barely show up in this whoops, outsider’s pov on a relationship, yes beta we live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfshnorgull/pseuds/blarfshnorgull
Summary: Ingrid makes it her job to prevent Dimitri from overworking himself during his bouts of insomnia. Perhaps she can make one exception.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Series: your smile is the greatest gift of all [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716865
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	You Smile, and it Makes Me Fly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newmrsdewinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmrsdewinter/gifts).



> This is a surprise birthday present to my dear friend Abby. In this house we stan our betas 😤

Not a soul is awake in Castle Fhirdiad when Ingrid makes her way down the hallways. Normally she would be well on her way to bed by this hour of the night, but since her knighting, she has one very important task at the behest of Dedue and Felix.

The mission? Make sure Dimitri actually goes to bed at a reasonable hour and doesn’t stay up all night. Not the most noble assignment for a knight of her standing, but if it means helping her friend, she’ll embrace the task with pride. Even if it means losing sleep while she checks Dimitri’s usual haunts when he’s experiencing a bout of insomnia.

With his bedroom, the library, the garden, and the kitchen already out of her way, that leaves just three possibilities. Depending on Dimitri’s mood, he could be in his daughter’s nursery, which Ingrid prays is not the case as the last thing she wants is to accidentally wake the sleeping princess. It’s more likely that Dimitri is in his study working on something that definitely doesn’t demand his attention at midnight. Or if Ingrid is being particularly optimistic, he already went back to bed and she’s just on a wild goose chase.

Unfortunately for Ingrid, she knows exactly how Dimitri is, and the light creeping from his closed study door proves her right.

She enters Dimitri’s study, mentally preparing herself for whatever lecture she needs to give. She makes no move to hide her presence, and the second she makes her way into the room, Dimitri startles. He shoots up from his position at his desk, dropping something she can’t quite make out.. He flails, trying in vain to catch whatever it was. There’s a loud thud, with a sharp yelp following it.

_ Great start, _ Ingrid thinks.

“Ah, Ingrid! I didn’t expect to see you at this hour,” Dimitri says a little too enthusiastically for a man that just hit his head. He looks rather pleased with himself, all things considered.

Ingrid approaches his desk to relieve him of whatever he’s working on, only for him to pull it out of her sight. He flushes even further, like a child caught in the act, and shoves the mystery object under the desk.

Ingrid looks at him expectantly. Strange.

“I could say the same for you, Your Majesty — ”

“Dimitri,” he reminds her with his usual level of gentle insistence.

Ingrid resists the urge to sigh and focuses on doing her job.

“Shouldn't you be in bed?”

Dimitri squirms. He shifts even further away, refusing to meet Ingrid’s eyes. Caught red-handed indeed. “Well… I was having a difficult time sleeping. I thought I might work on something.”

Ingrid is suddenly struck by a memory of Dedue. Overworking is Dimitri’s default state, much like Dedue warned her months ago.  _ “If necessary, physically make him stop,”  _ he had told her and once again he is proven right. Ingrid doubts she could physically intervene. Not for a lack of physical strength, but because Dimitri is so  _ large _ that it would be rather difficult given her own height. In theory she could carry Dimitri, but the distance would take its toll on her. Unless she has support...

“Do I need to get Dedue?” Ingrid threatens. Out of everyone, he would be the least upset if she woke him up in the middle of the night for this particular task. Dimitri hates inconveniencing Dedue more than anything else, and the mere threat of disrupting Dedue’s sleep usually makes Dimitri concede. It’s a win-win threat.

Dimitri looks down at his hands in his lap, biting his lower lip in hesitation. Possibly weighing the pros and cons of complying with Ingrid dragging him to bed. “It’s not  _ work, _ work. It’s… it’s for Helena,” he finally concedes.

“Oh,” Ingrid replies dumbly.

Dimitri peeks up at Ingrid from where he’s practically curled into himself in his seat. His eye is swimming with apprehension and excitement in equal measure, a look she hasn’t seen since they were children. It’s astounding to see such a meek expression from someone so large.

“Would you like to see?” Dimitri offers. Whether his voice is trembling from anxiety or eagerness, Ingrid can’t say. Probably both.

Ingrid quells her curiosity. “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”

Dimitri shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to…” he pauses, toying with a frayed thread on his sleeve, “I’ve just never done anything like this before.” His eye drops and he fixes his gaze on the loose thread. “I could use a second opinion, actually.”

Ingrid feels warmth bloom in her chest and she can’t fight the smile making its way to her face. “I’d be happy to help.”

She makes her way around to the other side of Dimitri’s desk, now looking over his shoulder to properly see his work. He pulls out what he was hiding underneath the desk, revealing an embroidery hoop and needle in his hands. A decidedly  _ not _ bent needle, which is impressive in its own right.

“I didn’t realize you knew how to embroider.”

Dimitri chuckles at that. “‘Embroider’ is perhaps a bit generous.” He turns the fabric over in his hands a few times before finally hands it off to Ingrid. “I’m sure Mercedes would be disappointed to see how little I’ve improved.”

“I think she’d be thrilled to see your…” Ingrid pauses finally examining Dimitri’s… wreaths? Tables? Goddess help her, Ingrid has no idea what these are supposed to be. Maybe it’s a chair? But why would he embroider a chair of all things? “...your  _ work,” _ she finishes lamely.

“It’s a horse,” Dimitri adds meekly.

Oh. _ That’s _ what it’s supposed to be. If Ingrid tilts her head a bit she can almost see it. The horses aren’t  _ horrible  _ but that’s not the first animal she would’ve thought of just by looking at it. They’re more like… ambitious ducks.

_ Think of something positive to say, think of something positive to say. _

“Oh! It’s very creative.” Ingrid cringes as soon as the words are out of her mouth.  _ Is that really the best you can do? Even a child would be able to tell that’s not a compliment, _ Ingrid scolds herself. 

Dimitri, who isn’t an idiot, catches on immediately. “It’s hopeless,” he says dejectedly.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Ingrid shouts, frantically trying to salvage her blunder, “It’s workable! Just… maybe pick an easier design next time?”

Dimitri  _ wilts. _ “Marianne loves horses. I thought she’d like it.”

He’s so  _ sweet. _ All he wants is to make a gift for his daughter, a gift that both Helena and Marianne would cherish. And here’s Ingrid, stomping all over his dreams like some great lumbering oaf.

“I’m sure she’ll love it!” she tries to reassure him, “She didn’t marry you for your artistic ability.” Ingrid takes stock of the legged blobs one more time and adds more quietly to herself, “...I hope.”

But she wasn’t quiet enough. Dimitri drops his head to his desk with a defeated groan, and Ingrid wants to  _ die.  _ She’s a horrible friend, absolute  _ scum.  _ If the ground swallowed her up whole right at this moment, it still wouldn’t be enough to hide her shame. Maybe if she throws herself off the balcony she’ll find forgiveness for her mistakes.  _ Maybe.  _ Or she can try to damage control.

“She’ll love it because  _ you _ made it. For  _ your _ daughter,” she tries to say gently, but it comes out awkward. As far as damage control goes, not great.

“You’re quite optimistic,” Dimitri mumbles, with his face still pressed against the wood of the desk. 

“If you’re so worried about how it looks, maybe we can write to Mercedes?” Mercedes is currently at the monastery, and even at Ingrid’s fastest it would take her a week to reach their friend. But after repeatedly kicking the puppy that is Dimitri, she has to offer some sort of solution. “I’m sure she would be more than happy to help.”

Dimitri lifts his head up. His eye barely peeks out from his hair. He looks exactly like a sad puppy. A giant, sad, one-eyed puppy.

“I wanted to finish it by her birthday,” he admits sullenly.

“That’s…”  _ way too soon and you’ll never make it in time, _ “certainly an ambitious timeframe.” Somehow it doesn’t sound any better than what she was thinking.

Dimitri drops his head again with another groan. “You can just say it’s hopeless Ingrid.”

“It’s not impossible! See, you’re already almost done!” Ingrid wildly gestures at the embroidery hoop, hoping he’ll notice all his hard work instead. 

It seems to work, as he rises from the slump on his desk. Dimitri takes the hoop from Ingrid’s hands and turns it over to examine his handiwork.

“It’ll never be finished in time,” he concludes, all prior eagerness gone and it’s all her fault. 

Ingrid opts for her last resort because she will  _ not _ let Dimitri’s efforts go to waste. “We  _ will _ finish it.”

Dimitri looks up at her, confusion etching his features. _ ‘“We?’” _

Ingrid raises her hand over her heart solemnly and prepares for battle. “Yes, ‘we.’ As a knight I swore an oath to serve my king — ”

“I don’t think that applies here?”

“—and as your  _ friend, _ I want to help you.”

Ingrid puts her hand on Dimitri’s shoulder and leans down, forcing him to look her in the eye. More importantly, forcing him to stop fixating on his mistakes and remind him that she’s here too.

“We’ll finish it, Dimitri,” she says with every ounce of determination worthy of a knight of her station. And Sothis help her, she means it.

Dimitri smiles gently, his eye a little watery. “Thank you, Ingrid.”

  
  


—

  
  


Three weeks later, Ingrid spots Marianne through the slightly ajar door of Helena’s nursery. She’s seated in a rocking chair, with her daughter swaddled in Dimitri’s blanket, resting against her chest. Marianne’s expression has a depth of affection to it that most people will never have the joy of seeing.

Her smile is a radiant and rare thing, and Ingrid can’t help but feel as if she’s been granted a wonderful gift just from the mere sight of it. Marianne rarely shows the full extent of her feelings in public, but in rare moments like these, Ingrid remembers just how much Marianne loves her husband and daughter.

Ingrid steps away from the door to the nursery before Marianne can notice her. She starts her trek back to her post, feeling comfortably reminded that, yes, Dimitri was a fool for fretting over whether Marianne would like his embroidery.

Of course she loves it, no one makes Marianne happier than Dimitri.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, their daughter’s name is Helena Rinea Blaiddyd.


End file.
